Constantine: Requiem
by Coriah
Summary: John Constantine is once again thrown into a battle to maintain the balance between good and evil after a troubling vision.
1. Chapter 1

Looking curiously down at his feet, John Constantine felt a true sense of uneasiness for the first time in what seemed to him to be ages. All he could see was a white mist or fog underneath the spot where he was perched. Gravity should have already been pulling him down to Earth's surface. Instead, he stayed there, standing on an apparently invisible barrier. Deciding to get his bearings, John looked up from below and observed that his entire atmosphere was like this. No solid object was in sight; only the foggy mist was visible to him.

Although uneasy with his confusing surroundings, John felt an unusual sense of direction here. He felt as if he had been here before, though he knew it wasn't possible

John looked to the sky with a mocking smirk on his face.

"What is this? Some kind of cheesy epiphany moment you thought I should experience? I must admit, I'm a little disappointed with the environment you've created here. It's pretty boring," he insisted.

As usual, there is only silence in response to John's attempt at conversing with God. Expecting nothing more, he decided to play along with what he thought was one of God's many games that have been set up for him. Taking a cautious step forward, his feet plants firmly on the empty space that lay before him. Now sure that his environment was stable enough to traverse in full, he strode along the endless, empty void.

John paused at the hint of a noise. Faint and echoed, but still there. It happened again, and this time he noticed it was keeping a tempo.

_Footsteps,_ he thought to himself.

"Well it's about time. I probably could've done whatever you wanted me to do by now if you would've just come out from your hiding place sooner."

The outline of a figure was now visible through the mist, and as it approached, a familiar looking patch of curly hair could be seen riding astride it. A shiver ran down Constantine's spine as the identity of the man was now not only apparent, but impossible.

"Chaz?" John asked, overtaken by the revelation.

The believed-to-be deceased apprentice now stood within arm's reach of the exorcist, a smirk of knowing creeping across his face.

"Long time no see, ay? Did you miss me, John? I think you missed me," he beamed.

"Chaz…what's going on? How are you here? What is this?" Constantine questioned.

"Don't freak out, John. I'm not here, not really. But I we don't have time to talk about that right now. It's very important that you get Angela to—."

John's throat burned intensely with a sudden, piercing pain. Howling with agony, Constantine drowned out Chaz's speech. He collapsed to his knees, the pain from his throat now seemingly spreading throughout his head. He felt what seemed like a wet fingertip slowly grazing the side of his cheek, and reaching up to seize it, saw the stream of blood trickling down from his ear. He looked helplessly to Chaz, who seemed to be screaming his message to him, but none was heard.

The shades of the environment began to darken, and the previous endless mist was now fading into darkness. Chaz rushed over to the crippling Constantine, trying to hold him steady and calm.

Chaz screamed into John's ear with all the force he could muster, "Find Angela! You can't let him take her!"

Darkness rushed over them.


	2. Chapter 2

John awoke trembling, his forehead and hair dripping with perspiration. Realizing he was back in his familiar surroundings, he lazily rolled into a sitting position on his bed, joints crackling in protest. Reaching across his bed to the nightstand, he grabbed the pack of cigarettes he had been craving for even through his dream. He went to pull one out, when suddenly a chill ran through his body. He remembered the promise he had made to himself on the night Angela and he had parted ways. Forcing the smoke back into the pack, he could feel Lucifer's smile disappear from his face, knowing he was watching his every move from the depths of Hell.

_Not this time, Lu. Nice try, _he thought triumphantly.

Thinking of that particular event brought him back to that night's dream.

_Angela._

The dream was now haunting his thoughts. The intensity of Chaz's message was unnerving, even after awakening. He was debating whether it was just a nightmare, or if Chaz had really contacted him through a vision. He found its reality unlikely, since all the years he's been in this line of business he'd never had a vision sent to him with a message. This happening really struck a chord with, however.

_Who would try to hurt Angela, anyway? Balthazaar's dead. Lucifer surely has more important things to do. It doesn't add up, _he assured himself.

Constantine jumped as a loud crashing noise came from outside the door of his livingspace. A shelf collapsed from its mount as the floor shook due to the impact. John saw the door tremble against weight as the noise was happening.

John reached inside his jacket pocket, pulling out a vial of holy water. He then stuck his arm underneath his bed to retrieve his shotgun, forged from the body of a golden crucifix. He climbed off of his bed, and walked over to the main door, standing at least four feet away from the threshold in case the believed-to-be intruder decided to make a move.

He stood there, listening and waiting for any sounds of movement. Maybe he was just overreacting and all the years of experience he'd accumulated were finally getting the best of him.

Another jolt of force crashed into the door. John pointed his weapon at the doorway, the vial still clutched in his last two fingers. A third force came crashing, and then a fourth, until they came in rapid succession. He aimed a little higher than the middle of the door, where a human head would be sitting on a pair of shoulders, assuming the intruder had a human form.

The hinges of the door snapped, and it came crashing to the floor, dust flying to the air on impact. In the threshold, a tall, bulky figure stood. Clad in a white suit, with long, black hair, the man was unknown to the exorcist.

They stared at each other, eye to eye, not moving a muscle. Neither was speaking, seemingly waiting for the other to say the first word.

It was Constantine who tired of the situation first.

"Well, since you aren't going to be polite and introduce yourself, I'll have to make the first move. Who the hell are you and why'd you just break into my home?" John questioned.

The man simply shrugged his shoulders slightly. "My name isn't important. And you wouldn't have let me in the door if I had asked politely."

John walked forward and pushed the barrel of his gun into the forehead of the intruder. "Maybe you didn't get the memo. If you don't give me one good reason as to why you're ruining my morning, I'll send your sorry ass to Hell by blowing you into little, melted chunks," John calmly threatened.

The man cackled with a menacing laughter. "Now, now, if you do that, you'll never know where to find Angela."

_Angela, _John pondered nervously. _Apparently there is something to this dream of mine._

"Where is she? Tell me now!" demanded John, an intensity burning behind his eyes.

"I can't. I'm not sure how I can explain it without confusing you… but I can take you there," informed the man.

"Oh, no way. I smell a set-up, or a trap of some kind. You're going to tell me exactly what the hell's going on and what Angela has to do with it," enforced John.

"We really don't have time to go through this right now. Unless you don't care about whether Angela dies or not, I suggest we go right now," the man said with an empty calmness.

Constantine knew it was against his better judgment to go with the man, but if he was telling the truth, John needed to act quickly.

"Turn around," he demanded.

The man gave him a confused, awkward look. "What?"

"Shut up and turn around!" he demanded once again.

The intruder decided to play nice, and spun to face the way out. John stuck the barrel to the back of the man's head.

"I'm riding in the back. If you try anything at all, I swear I'll blast your face through the front glass," John insured.


End file.
